Stranger Danger
by AnotherChaoticPenName
Summary: A week after Officer Milk Carton's presentation, young Shawn and Gus encounter a stranger on the playground. YoungShawn Whumpage.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Stranger Danger (version 1.0)

Nine-year-old Shawn Spencer licked his lips nervously, his eyes wide and his body tense. A drop of sweat--_or was it blood? No. He hadn't been hit, it couldn't be blood! Unless it was from one of the unfortunates that had fallen before him…possible, very possible_--was trickling down his temple, but he didn't dare risk reaching up to wipe it away. A moment of inattention could cost him. He swallowed hard as he saw the weapon raised, clearly aimed at him. He'd managed to stay under the radar for a long time, but it was not quite long enough. One more minute, he figured. Just one! Then he would have been home free. Unfortunately, his luck and his time had run out.

Despite his own peril, when Shawn heard a small whimper to his left, he couldn't help but glance sidelong at his best friend, Burton Guster. The other boy's eyes were squeezed shut, and his thin frame was trembling slightly; Gus was clearly awaiting the final blow that would finish him off. Oh, this was not good. _You can't show your fear_, Shawn silently warned his friend before his attention snapped back toward their assailant. His eyes widened as he saw their attacker's vicious grin growing as the goon altered his aim, focusing his attention on Gus.

That was not going to happen, Shawn determined. He wasn't going to let Gus go down. Not now, after they'd made it this far together. He hesitated for just a moment, his world suddenly seeming to move in slow motion as the weapon was cocked. He shook his head, silently warning their assailant not to do it. Unfortunately, the thug ignored him and let loose.

Shawn sprang into action as the projectile barreled directly at his best friend's unprotected head. "Gus, look out!" he cried, turning to try and stop the catastrophic event. He dove, knocking his friend out of the way and taking the full brunt of the attack himself. The big red ball of destruction hit its mark, and hit it hard, slamming Shawn hard against the brick wall. He lost his balance and dropped to the ground like a lead weight. He tried to suck in air but couldn't seem to breathe. This was it; he was going to die.

Whoever thought that dodgeball-against-the-wall was a good idea for a game was obviously a master of torture.

"Shawn?" he heard Gus calling his name. "Shawn, the bell rang. Time to go in."

Sure enough, as Shawn looked up, he saw that the rest of the class was already dispersing and running up to the building. He nodded at Gus, but wasn't yet ready to get up. He still couldn't breathe, damn it. Yes, he was clearly dying.

"Shawn…" Gus shifted from one foot to the other, looking up at the school and clearly trying to decide whether he should wait for his friend or get inside before he got into trouble.

_I'm dying._

"You are not dying," Gus informed Shawn, not seeming terribly concerned about his friend's imminent death. "You've been hit in the solar plexus, which has caused your diaphragm to spasm. You won't be able to breathe until that stops.

"Now, come on, we have to get inside. Everyone else is already inside."

"Go on without me," Shawn solemnly lamented (with his dying breath), dismissing Gus as he sank down, letting his head rest against the pavement. _Even though I saved your life…_

Gus pursed his lips, looked back up at the school, signed, and sat down on the pavement next to Shawn. "You'll be okay in a minute. Just lie still."

As if Shawn had any choice in the matter? He was dying here! Although, really, he decided, it seemed like it was starting to get easier to breathe. Maybe Gus was right after all. Still, perhaps he should just lie here for a few more minutes…he wasn't sure he could possibly make it up the stairs to their classroom. And surely he didn't want to have a relapse and die in _school_. No, better to die here on the playground, if he was going to die.

He waited a couple minutes longer, even though now he was pretty sure that Gus was right. He wasn't actually going to die, which meant that eventually they were going to have to go back to class. How much more could his life suck?

"Excuse me?" a voice caught Shawn's attention and he slowly sat up. His brow furrowed as he saw an unfamiliar man approaching them.

"Shawn," Gus hissed, pulling slightly on his friend's collar. "We've got to go." He didn't know why this man was approaching them, but according to Officer Milk Carton's presentation last week, it was highly inappropriate for a stranger to approach children.

"I'm sorry to bother you," the man called out, stopping a short distance from them. "Have you seen my dog?"

Shawn and Gus exchanged glances. Wasn't that one of those things that Officer Milk Carton specifically mentioned to them? Gus pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows pointedly. Shawn nodded, concurring. This guy was up to no good.

"No, we haven't," Gus answered curtly, gripping Shawn's arm pulling him to his feet. They had to get inside and tell the teacher immediately!

"What kind is it?" Shawn asked quizzically, ignoring the way Gus was tugging on his arm. His eyes drifted to the leash and collar the man was holding. It was awfully big, so it had to be a really huge dog.

"Oh. It's a mutt…you know…Like Benji."

_That could be_, Shawn mused silently, _but doubtful_. Benji wasn't nearly that large. Besides, the collar didn't have any hair on it at all, which indicated that it probably hadn't ever been used. "How old is he?"

"Shawn…" Gus hissed in his ear, shifting uncomfortably.

Shawn glanced at him, shaking his head just a little bit.

"Oh, just a puppy. I just got him the other day," the man answered. "That's why I'm so worried. He got loose and doesn't know the way home. Do you think you could help me find him?"

"Sure," Shawn answered quickly at the same time that Gus replied, "No, we've got to get back to cla--Shawn!"

Shawn rolled his eyes theatrically and smiled at the guy. "Gimme a sec…" He turned to Gus and very quietly murmured. "I'll stall him. You go tell Miss Adams."

Gus's eyes widened and he started to shake his head, peeking over Shawn's shoulder at the man and forcing a smile before ducking back behind Shawn. "Don't be stupid, Shawn. Let's just go! Officer Milk Carton says we're supposed to scream, run, and tell an adult, Shawn. Scream, run, and tell an adult," he reiterated the steps that had been drilled into them.

But Shawn refused to budge. "Gus, if we don't stop him, he's going to do this to someone else. So go and I'll keep him here."

Before Gus could protest, Shawn had turned back to the guy.

"Gus is going back to class, but I can help you look," he announced, giving Gus a little nudge.

Against his better judgment, Gus turned and headed for the building at a quick pace, but without running. He didn't want to be too suspicious, but he knew this was a very bad idea. Forget Miss Adams, he'd go straight to Principal Thatcher and then call the police.

"Where'd you last see him?" Shawn asked the man, suddenly not feeling quite so confident about this idea. Maybe he should have just gone with Gus.

No, he was doing the right thing. They needed to catch this guy before he managed to lure some dumb kid to go with him.

"Over there," the man motioned toward the far end of the playground. Shawn didn't miss the fact that there was a van parked just on the other side of the trees. The getaway car, he imagined.

Shawn swallowed nervously, realizing that he wasn't sure exactly how he could stall the guy. "Maybe he went over that way," Shawn suggested, pointing the opposite direction. "There's a hotdog stand about a block up the street and--"

The man shook his head. "No, I've already looked over there. I'm pretty sure he's down in that area…"

Shawn shifted from one foot to the other and looked back over his shoulder to where Gus had gone. He was getting a very bad feeling about this. Plus he was starting to feel sick to his stomach. This was a bad idea.

Still, he couldn't just let the guy get away, right? So he nodded and started walking as slow as he could toward the far end of the playground. This was such a bad idea, he told himself, his heart beat growing faster and faster. _Please hurry, Gus…_

As they neared the far end of the playground and there was still no sign of Gus, Shawn decided it was time to abort the plan. "I think I might have just heard him!" he exclaimed and turned back toward the school, breaking into a run.

Unfortunately he didn't make it very far. He'd only made it a few steps before suddenly the man was grabbing him up off the ground. He tried to scream, but before he could make a noise the man had slapped a large, rough hand over his mouth, effectively muffling the sound.

"No!" he cried out, though he knew no one would be able to hear him. He struggled fiercely; kicking, scratching, trying to bite the hand over his mouth. All to no avail. The man was just so much bigger and stronger. Shawn didn't stand a chance.

_Gus, help me! _he silently pleaded.

In a matter of moments, they were to the man's waiting van. Shawn thrashed his body harder, but it was no use. The man slammed him against the side of the van and held him there while fumbling to get the door open. Shawn struggled in the man's lessened grip and managed for just a moment to get his mouth away from the hand. He screamed as loud as he could only to be silenced by the man's fist sinking into his stomach. His solar plexus, he amended, remembering Gus's words. His diaphragm must have been spasming again, because once again he couldn't breathe. And screaming was completely beyond the realm of possibility. Next thing he knew, he was being shoved to the van floor. No! Nonono…

He struggled to get up but the man backhanded him hard across the face, knocking him back to the floor. He could feel his mouth filling with blood and was pretty sure that he swallowed at least one of his teeth. Oh God he was missing teeth. He heard a strange noise and it took him a moment to realize that he was actually whimpering. He tried to make himself stop, but as the man climbed into the van, pulling the door shut, he began to panic. He had to get out!

He scrambled to his hands and knees and flung himself toward the back door. He heard the man let out a small laugh but didn't realize why until he discovered that there was no handle on the back door. He was trapped!

Nonono!

He glanced fearfully over his shoulder and cringed as he saw that the man had pulled the van door shut and was simply watching him. He turned back and began banging on the back windows. Someone had to hear him. Someone had to save him.

But no one was coming. He was alone, and pretty damn helpless. He screamed soundlessly as he tried unsuccessfully to break the windows. And all the while his captor just sat watching and _laughing_.

He stopped pounding and turned back toward his captor, his mind racing, seeking escape. He shrank back into the corner, as though it could somehow keep him safe. He stayed perfectly still, hoping that it somehow made him invisible. Miraculously it seemed to work. The man moved into the front seat and started the engine.

Shawn swallowed his fear and slowly crept forward. He couldn't let the guy take him away from here. Gus was getting help! What was taking him so long?

His eyes darted toward the side door and he disappointed--though not surprised--to find that there was no way to open the door from the inside.

As the man put the van into gear and began pulling away from the curb, Shawn knew he had to act. He scrambled forward and reached around the front of the seat, curling his fingers into 'claws' and trying to scratch the man's face, aiming to gouge the man's eyes. If the man couldn't see, he couldn't drive, and he wouldn't be able to chase after Shawn when he made his escape.

The man howled and grabbed Shawn's wrist, squeezing so hard that Shawn was fairly certain that he felt his bones snap. He screamed uncontrollably, and fell to the floor of the van, clutching his injured arm. He was dimly aware that the van was moving and felt the most profound helplessness he could ever imagine.

And then suddenly the van screeched to a stop. Then it backed up. And stopped abruptly again. Then the man began cursing and the next thing Shawn knew he was being grabbed up off the floor of the van and was being dragged out the driver's side door.

And then he was on the ground. Immediately he began scrambling to get away, crawling under the van. He felt a hand grip his ankle and screamed, only to find himself being pulled gently back.

"It's okay, kiddo, I've got you," a familiar voice spoke softly directly into his ear. Detective Downey. His dad's partner. Oh! He relaxed into the man's embrace, throwing his arms around his savior's neck.

"Henry, stop. It's okay, I've got him. He's okay. You have to stop."

Shawn blinked away the tears he wasn't even aware he'd been crying and looked up to see his Dad punching his abductor repeatedly. He'd never seen his dad so out of control.

"Henry!"

Henry paused for a moment, looking down at Det. Downey and his son. He was breathing hard, and Shawn was frightened by the wild look on his father's face. He pressed himself even closer to Det. Downey, turning to bury his face against the man's chest.

"Take him in," he heard his father's hardened voice. And then a moment later his dad was there, picking him from his partner's arms.

Shawn tensed again, but relaxed as his father wrapped him in a tight hug. He could feel his father's hand gently stroking his hair, and his father's warm breath against his neck and cheek. He melted into his dad's embrace. "Dad…" he murmured, clinging to his father with all four limbs.

Though there was a flurry of activity around them, neither of the Spencers was aware of anything but each other. The suspect was taken into custody and hauled away, but still a father stood in the middle of the street just holding son.

"Henry," Detective Downey finally tried to get his partner's attention. "I think the boy is hurt," he said softly as Henry looked up. Henry looked down at Shawn, becoming aware for the first time of the swollen wrist and the blood marring his young son's face. If the perp hadn't already been taken from the scene, he was certain that he would have murdered the man right here. He took a deep breath and nodded, setting Shawn down gently.

Shawn didn't want to let go. He didn't care anything about the pain in his mouth or in his arm. He just wanted--_needed_--the feeling of security that his father could provide. He smiled shyly, and reached for his father's hand. "Dad…?"

Henry peered down at his son. He looked so…small. And vulnerable. Damn, he could have _lost_ him. If Gus hadn't called him and told him what Shawn was doing…if he'd been even a minute later…He felt a lump in his throat and his eyes began to sting. That…maggot could have stolen his son. He knew the horrors that his son would have endured. To imagine something so heinous happening to his boy made his heart want to break.

He felt Shawn grasp his hand. The kid looked so fragile and in need of reassurance. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the boy how much he loved him.

But in the end, that would have done no good. Shawn needed to learn.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he barked, letting go of his son's hand.

"Dad, I--" Shawn stammered, shrinking back, stunned by the harshness of his father's voice.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I swear I'll—"

"Henry," Det. Downey cut in. He shook his head, disapprovingly.

Henry let out a small huff, but relented as he saw the fear etched across his son's face. Shawn had been through something traumatic. Right now he needed comfort.

Tomorrow, they'd have a long talk.

"Come on, kid. Let's get that looked at," he said in a low voice. Shawn nodded, his gaze lowering to stare at the pavement in front of his feet. "Just don't ever pull a stunt like that ever again. You are never to put yourself in danger like that. Do you understand?"

Shawn nodded slightly.

"I won't always be around to save you."

Shawn nodded again.

Henry slid his fingers under Shawn's chin and forced him to look up. He ruffled Shawn's hair a little bit. _I love you, kid._

Shawn forced a small smile.

_I love you, too._

End Note: Please review. This is my first Psych fic and I'm really nervous about posting. I actually have several versions of this story, and just couldn't decide which way to go with it. This is the one-shot serious version. I may post other version(s) later if there is interest. Thanks for reading!


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